


Hell Is Where the Heart Is

by kkslover9



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angels, Blasphemy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 19:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkslover9/pseuds/kkslover9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sergio is a Heavenly Power stationed in Hell and Iker Casillas is the Fallen Angel who works across from him. Fernando Torres and Xabi Alonso are the sassy best friends, who always act out of love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell Is Where the Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> This was written during the 2011 footballslash Christmas exchange over on LJ The verse is based off of readings from Summa Theologica by Thomas Aquinas and Celestial Hierarchy by Pseudo-Dionysius. I had lots of fun with this. I'd been dying for Angel!fic.

“Welcome to the Styx Transporter.”

Sergio enters the elevator and pushes the “Hell – Level 1” button, rolling his eyes at the ridiculously named transport system. He settles against the wall and watches as letters float around on the back wall, coming together to form the “Hell Facts” that the Department of Interplanar Relations decided to install to reduce what they call “Hellaphobia” by dispelling common myths.

_Did you know that 87% of Hell's population is made up of Fallen Angels?_

_Only 1/100 of Fallen Angels are heavenly convicts._

The elevator comes to a halt with a ding and the doors slide open, allowing the Angels to filter through. Purgatory. Sergio can see all Angels running around in the lobby, trying to squeeze into the elevator across the hall—The Earth Transporter. He glances at his watch; it's peak Earth travel hours. The doors slide closed, leaving only him two other Angels. The Styx Transport was supposed to increase casual traffic to Hell but Sergio’s never seen more than five Angels travelling below Purgatory.

_A Holy Angel comes into contact with a Demon only ONCE in 100,000 visits to Hell._

He sighs.

 

Sergio runs his hand over the desk, crisp and sterile, just like the rest of the office. It's quiet as well though not at all as comfortable as Heavenly silence. He sits in his chair, stiff but not wholly uncomfortable, and swivels around once for good measure. There are make-shift walls to his sides but the front of the desk is open and facing another in the next row. The worker at the station opposite hasn't looked up since he's arrived, staring down at the papers on his desk. Sergio watches as he takes his stamp, pressing it to paper before moving the sheet to a pile on the right side of his desk and replacing it with another from the left. Sergio notices his lack of wings: a Fallen Angel. He looks ready to stamp the next but slowly looks up, feeling the eyes on him. Sergio smiles, friendly. A single nod comes in return.

“I'm Sergio.”

The Fallen Angel looks at him as though wondering whether to respond. “Iker.” 

“How long have you been working here?” Sergio asks, trying to extend the conversation.

“A really long time.” He gives Sergio a lopsided half-smile then returns to his papers, stamping down and moving on to the next.

 

“Why are you stuck here?” 

Sergio’s head snaps up to look across his desk. They haven’t said anything in hours and Iker hasn’t looked as though he wanted to have a conversation but here he is waiting for a response.

“You don’t seem like the Power type,” he explained, taking Sergio’s silence as misunderstanding, “Bureaucratic office work isn’t exactly what everyone’s scrambling for.”

“Well, I was trying for Cupid or something else comfortable and Earth-level but I had too many points on the Empathy portion of the placement test and they were afraid I wouldn’t follow the print outs.” Sergio feels himself go slightly red. “So it was either Domination or a Hell-based Power and I was never interested Earthly theology so here I am filing Crossing-Over reports.” 

Iker smiles. “Yeah. I understand that,” he says, and goes back to work.

 

_Iker had to admit that he was gorgeous even if he was made from Evil (perhaps because of it) and, when he smiled at him, Iker turned away instinctively, blushing._

_“You're a Throne-in-training right?” He was right next to him and Iker's first thought was to run. Nothing good could have possibly come from talking to a Demon but then again he was there to learn and what better way than interacting with the occupants of the sixth level of Hell._

_“Possibly,” Iker replied, trying to sound confident and playful, “You?”_

_“I'm David.” He smiled again, all teeth and warmth. Iker smiled back._

_Xabi looked him over carefully. Iker knew his friend could recognize his nervousness even if he hadn’t been visibly fidgeting next to him._

_“Why can't you come out tonight?” Xabi asked, turning casually away from Iker as though he hasn’t noticed anything at all._

_“I—I'm already going out with someone.” Iker glanced at Xabi and swallowed. Xabi already had his thinking face on, brows furrowed slightly, and Iker knew he would not be left alone until Xabi knew everything._

_“With who?” Xabi turned suddenly to look at him suspiciously and Iker quickly turned to the other direction._

_“You wouldn't know him.”_

_Xabi frowned at the pathetic response and Iker could feel him roll his eyes. A Cherub that doesn't know? Xabi's low scoff rang in his ears._

_“I met him during the Demonic Knowledge workshop.”_

_“A Fallen Angel?” Xabi asked slowly, already guessing he would not like the answer. His frown deepened as Iker shook his head. “Iker, a Demon?”_

_“I know, Xabi, I think I can learn best by interacting with—”_

_“No, Iker,” Xabi said harshly, cutting him off, “Obviously you don't know. This is a being born of Evil, not your average run-of-the-mill Fallen.”_

_“I know what I'm doing!” Iker was glaring at Xabi now, angry because he did know what he would be getting into and he could handle this. He could._

_A look of disappointment flashed over Xabi's face before he stood and left Iker in silence._

 

Iker lets Sergio talk through the day and sometimes entertains him with responses. If Sergio is lucky, he gets a laugh as well. All in all, Sergio thinks he’s pleasant and his luck wasn’t too bad in being placed across from him. When he gets his first undecided case, it’s Iker who takes him into the storage rooms and shows him how to work the computer-sorting program to help with his Judgment report. It’s Iker who helps him gather the files he needs and explains the signing out procedure. 

“Are you in love with him already?” Fernando asks, typing away something on the Cupid tablet in his hands—Sergio manages only to be a little jealous these days—as he lies back on Sergio’s couch, “You’ve only been there two months right?”

Sergio glares at his friend who only shrugs and mouths an innocent ‘what’. He groans. “I’m not in love with him.”

“You talk about him all the time and he actually doesn’t sound all that great from what I can hear,” Fernando explains, “It’s either that you have a horrible choice in friends—which can’t be possible because I’m your friend—or you have a thing for this Fallen Angel.” Fernando laughs and says something about forbidden love that Sergio doesn’t quite hear.

“Well, you aren’t that great actually,” Sergio remarks sorely. 

Fernando grins at him. 

 

_David trapped him against the wall and smiled as Iker turned his face away. “Hey, It’s ok,” he whispered into his ear. “It’ll be good. I promise.” He gently brought Iker back to face him and ran his hand through his hair reassuringly before kissing him. Iker parted his lips obediently when he felt the warm tongue run along them and David pressed him into the wall, licking into his mouth, prodding his own tongue to life. Iker attempted to drown a moan in the back of his throat, failing and releasing instead a low drowning noise and pushed up against David. He broke the kiss, moving his lips along Iker’s jaw, down to his neck, stopping to suck at a small piece of exposed collar bone._

_“David,” Iker moaned breathlessly, tangling his fingers into the Demon’s hair._

_David smiled triumphantly against his skin._

 

Iker is a Fallen Angel by choice. Of course, it shouldn't be a real surprise that he still keeps in contact with the Angels he knows. It’s not against any laws, but it still catches Sergio by surprise when he enters the office and sees an Angel—blue trim at the edge of his white robes giving away his Cherub status—leaned against Iker's desk, casually chatting with him. They look up and the Cherub smiles and turns to face him. 

“Xabi,” he says, offering Sergio his hand.

“Sergio,” he replies, needlessly because Xabi certainly already knows that. He takes the hand and feels the overwhelming warmth flood through him from the contact, a feeling he hates because of how the power difference between him and the first tier of Angels is so evident. Xabi apparently senses his discomfort and releases his hand abruptly.

“Iker’s told me a lot about you.” He sends a smile his friend’s way but Iker’s mouth is drawn into a thin disapproving line. Xabi’s smile widens. “I’m having a tea in a fortnight,” he continues, “You should come.” Iker’s expression proceeds closer to a frown. “Iker seems to think you’d be busy. Are you?” 

“I’m not doing anything,” Sergio says.

Xabi turns to Iker and rests his hand on his forearm. “See. You had nothing to worry about.” Iker scowls at him and Xabi laughs lightly. “You’ve been picking up too many bad habits down here,” he says, patting his friend’s cheek affectionately. He turns back to Sergio and smiles once more. Sergio’s eyes move down to where Xabi is holding onto Iker’s arm and he pulls it back slowly, maintaining his grin toward Sergio.

“I should probably go,” he says and, at Iker’s assenting nod, glides through the door.

Sergio stares after him, confused.

“Sorry about him.” Sergio looks over to Iker, who smiles at him weakly. “We can go to the tea together, if you want.”

“I don’t have to go,” he replies, taking his cue from the sour look on Iker’s face earlier.

“I didn’t—” Iker sighs and gives him an apologetic look. “It’s fine. We can go together.”

Sergio nods and sits at his desk. Iker returns to his stamp and lets the silence consume the space between them.

 

_“You applied to fall,” Xabi muttered, sitting next to him, “And didn't tell me.” He stared ahead as though he was playing the words over in his head in disbelief and Iker felt a pang of guilt._

_“You would have tried to stop me,” Iker said, even though it was a terrible excuse._

_“Of course I would have tried to stop you,” Xabi said, turning to look at him, concerned, “It's the worst idea you've ever had. A being born of Evil—”_

_“Xabi, don't.” Iker sounded more desperate than anything, afraid that if Xabi said it all aloud, it would come to fruition._

_“Don't what? Say the truth?”_

_Iker stayed silent and looked away from Xabi's pained expression down at his feet. He heard a sigh and felt a hand rest comfortingly on his shoulder._

_“I'll still be here,” Xabi said, quiet._

 

He can feel Iker looking at him all morning, glancing between stamps. When he looks up and meets his gaze, Iker opens him mouth to speak but nothing comes out and he looks down. Sergio waits, coughing to get his attention. 

“Tomorrow is the start of the Third Quarter festival in Purgatory,” he mumbles—Sergio has to strain to hear him—“They have those fireworks at the opening, you know?” 

“So you want to go see them?” Sergio asks.

“Well . . .” Iker trails off.

“With me?”

“If you don’t want to you don’t—“ 

“Are you asking me on a date?” Sergio asks, surprised.

Iker’s mouth falls open and he goes pale. “I’m,” he pauses, “Not.”

 

“So you’re going on a date with him now?” Fernando asks, eyebrow raised. 

They’re out getting their wings trimmed as they do every fortnight.

“He says it’s not a date,” Sergio explains.

Fernando laughs, genuinely entertained. “Because you just invite people to go see the Quarterly fireworks for fun.” He rolls his eyes.

“Who are you going to see them with then?” Sergio asks, changing the subject.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Fernando responds with a wink, laughing at Sergio’s unimpressed expression.

 

Sergio and Iker decide to meet just outside the Purgatory transporters, so he travels with Fernando, who still refuses to tell him who he’s meeting. The elevator is packed with excited Angels chattering non-stop. He continues trying to press Fernando for the name of his mystery date and he tells him finally, only he makes sure that Sergio can’t hear him over the din and is now taking pride in telling Sergio that he’s already said it with a smug grin plastered across his face.

Iker is already waiting when they arrive. Fernando introduces himself as “the best friend” and makes what he calls obligatory threats before leaving them. 

“He’s nice,” Iker says, beginning to walk in the direction of the festival booths.

“When he wants to be,” Sergio mutters, following Iker.

They buy some chocolate at one of the Earth booths and Sergio shows them to a good spot where he watched the show the previous year. 

“It’s a lot bigger than I remember,” Iker muses.

“When was the last time you were here?” Sergio asks, watching as Iker sits next to him with a sizeable gap between them.

“Oh, maybe the year before I fell?” he answers, frowning.

Sergio lets the conversation go and turns to look at the start of the fireworks. He glances over once, twice and Iker is looking at him. He scoots over a little, trying to give him some encouragement but Iker doesn’t take it. If anything, Sergio swears he moves away again. He tries again, moving his hand to rest it upon Iker’s in the space between them, but Iker sees him and moves it into his lap. Sergio frowns.

“What’s your problem? Why don’t you want me to touch you?” Sergio asks when the show ends, annoyed. “And don’t say this isn’t a date because it obviously is.” Iker seems to go into a kind of shock and just gapes at him. Sergio feels a bit sorry for him.

“With Xabi—I thought you didn’t like being touched,” Iker explains, averting his eyes.

And then it’s Sergio’s turn to be embarrassed. “That’s just—I have a problem with the first tier Angels.”

Iker nods. He never touches Sergio.

 

_Of course, Xabi would have been right and Iker felt stupid and naive._

_“I'm a Demon, Iker. It was only fun while you were still an Angel. It's too normal now.”_

_Iker could hear the amusement in David's voice, as though he couldn't believe it was that easy to wrap a Throne around his finger._

_“I thought Thrones were supposed to know everything?” Iker fully expected him to burst out laughing soon._

_“Those are Cherubim,” Iker muttered, dryly. David laughed at that._

 

They never discuss the date. It’s almost as though it never happened. Fernando insists that Iker’s a “good-for-nothing Fallen Angel” and tells him to call off going to Xabi’s tea but Sergio thinks that’s too harsh so he disregards what his best friend says and just continues ignoring the whole night.

The elevator ride to Xabi’s tea is relatively quiet since they don’t talk to each other. The angels that cram into the lift at Purgatory all spill out at the first two levels of Heaven. At the fourth level, the elevator stops and the Domination Control checks Iker’s pass. The guard looks at Iker strangely and hands him back the badge, telling them to have a good day in a too pleasant way. 

They exit at the sixth. Iker leads the way through the rows of identically pristine white villas lined up along the streets. He shows him up the path of one and opens the door. The Angels inside are all wearing robes marked with the green, blue and red of the first tier. Sergio hesitates in the doorway but Iker pushes him in gently. 

“They don’t bite, even when you ask them,” he says, smiling warmly and thoughtfully adding, “Except maybe Xabi.”

It makes Sergio smile and relax before he realizes that was the first time Iker’s ever touched him. His hand was warm.

 

They’re nice and they try to make him feel welcome but then Sergio realizes he’s being a passed around from Angel to Angel and they are all doting on him like he’s a new puppy. Iker watches him from a sofa across the room where Xabi is sitting next to him, attempting to engage him in conversation. At least they all seem to be taking special care not to touch him (probably on Xabi’s orders, he thinks), except when he comes to Raul. The Seraphim puts his hand on his shoulder and Sergio feels like he’s going to melt; he can’t concentrate on anything he’s saying until he moves his hand. He glances back to the sofa after coming out of his stupor. Iker is gone and Xabi is coming out of the kitchen with a porcelain teapot, which gets everyone’s attention. “Patio,” he whispers to Sergio, grinning as he passes. 

 

When he goes out, Iker is leaned up against the banister, a cigarette in his mouth in the process of being lit.

“You really did pick up a lot of bad habits down there,” Sergio says, making his presence known.

Iker looks up and grins, filled with something Sergio would guess was mischief. “If I’m going to spend the rest of my days there, I don’t see why I can’t assimilate a little.”

“What were you before you fell?” Sergio asks.

The grin falters a little. “A Throne.” 

“I fell in love,” Iker says, answering the question that Sergio is itching to ask. “With a Demon.” He turns away from Sergio and looks out into the garden that seems to be endless now that they are on the property. “It’s stupid, I know. I was stupid back then.”

Sergio shakes his head though Iker can’t see. “I can understand that.”

Iker turns back to him and smiles gratefully. “Too much empathy.” He walks toward him and stops short before him. He’s close; Sergio could touch him without much trouble. “Are you sure you won’t hate it if I touch you?” Sergio thinks back to Iker’s hand on his back and shakes his head. “Ok,” Iker breathes. He lifts a hand and cups Sergio’s cheek. It’s warm but not uncomfortable and Sergio leans into it. Iker stares at him for a while and Sergio lets him, allowing the hand to stay pressed against his face. He knows what’s coming and waits for Iker because he doesn’t seem to be sure (or maybe he thinks Sergio isn’t sure), but he doesn’t disappoint. Iker leans forward, pressing his lips to Sergio’s, and Sergio returns it. Iker pulls away first and smiles, a bit sadly. Sergio is confused and doesn’t see anything wrong but before he can ask, Iker is gone, rushing back inside with a quick apology. Sergio doesn’t see him for the rest of the night.

 

_The first thing Xabi did was offer to apply to get him reinstated in his Heavenly position._

_“I can ask Raul as well. I'm sure he'd help.“_

_Iker shook his head in. He chose this and it was probably a good enough punishment for his stupidity to spend his time in Hell as a Power._

_“I can't see you behind a desk for Interplanar Relations,” Xabi said, “That's just too tragic. Iker in the Bureaucracy.” Xabi's face crinkled up in disgust at the words._

_Iker laughed, hollow and sad._

_“I'll be all right.”_

 

The next day, Iker’s desk is empty. Sergio feels a bit bitter and his chest tightens in disappointment but he tries to ignore it. Fernando seems to take it slightly worse and introduces Sergio to a flurry of (obviously vulgar) Earthly words that he’s picked up in the field. “I told you,” he says, following up with a groan of disgust.

Sergio shrugs and explains that he’s not going to let himself be bothered by it.

“You can’t just let him treat you like that,” Fernando protests.

“He’s had his own problems.”

“That doesn’t give him an excuse to be an ass.”

He supposed Fernando is right. Iker is absent again the next day and then the next. “You should go find him and let him know that he can’t fuck with you” is Fernando’s expert advice but Sergio feels that if he is a terrible a person that Fernando thinks, it probably wouldn’t disappoint him to see Sergio worked up over him. So he ignores the empty space in front of him and pretends he doesn’t feel at least a little used.

Xabi shows up the next day. “He’s being stubborn and I think it’s stupid so I’m doing something about it.” He give Sergio a pass to get into the lower levels of hell—Sergio is sure that kind of thing isn’t readily available to even Cherubim but he doesn’t question it—and the knowledge of Iker’s address then sees him off at the transporters without giving Sergio the chance to ask any questions.

 

Iker lives on the fourth and first residential level in an apartment that Sergio would never have found without the specific knowledge of the location. When Iker opens the door, he doesn’t look surprised, just annoyed and mumbles angrily under his breathe what Sergio is sure is _Xabi_. “You shouldn’t be here,” Iker says, moving aside to let him in anyway.

“Why?” Sergio asks calmly as he walks into the apartment.

Iker comes up behind him and strokes one of his wings gently. “I’m a liability to your heavenly position.”

Sergio turns and stares at him in disbelief. He’s about to call him on what is one of the worst excuses for anything that Sergio has come across but Iker looks genuinely bothered and seems to completely believe what he’s saying. 

“You don’t get to control whether I fall or not,” Sergio says defiantly. “If I want to, I will.”

“I don’t want to see you disappointed.” Iker looks at him, almost pleading with him to leave him.

“I’m already disappointed.” Iker turns away. “You can’t have me emotionally invest in this and then disappear.”

“What is _this_ , Sergio?” Iker asks.

Sergio opens his mouth to answer but realizes he doesn’t exactly know. “I’d know what it was if you didn’t keep running away.”

“Sergio, I just don’t want this to be a mistake for you,” Iker says, as though it somehow justifies his actions.

“You don’t want me to repeat your mistake.” They go silent for a moment and Iker walks a little further into the apartment and sits on the sofa in the living room. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that,” Sergio apologizes, following. Iker doesn’t respond.

“I don’t mind making mistakes you know,” Sergio tells him, sitting down in an armchair opposite Iker, “As long as it’s for a good reason.”

“Am I a good enough reason then?” 

“I’d like to think so.” Sergio gives him a small smile.

“And what if it turns out I’m not?” Iker asks. 

Sergio thinks his insecurity is slightly endearing. “Well, we’ll deal with that when we get there,” he answers.

“And what do we do in the meantime?” Iker asks.

“We can work on making this into something,” Sergio suggests, “Without the running away?”

Iker nods. “We can try that.”

Sergio moves from his seat to take a place next to Iker and smiles at him, warmly. Iker leans close; their faces almost touching. Sergio can feel Iker’s breath ghost over his cheek. He kisses him and allows Iker to press him gently into the sofa, wrapping his arms around his neck to pull him closer.

“And you still think you know what you’re doing?” Iker asks, breaking the kiss.

“Of course.” 

Iker smiles.


End file.
